Never
by TheDeadlyViper
Summary: Dean is drinking way too much. He gets into a car accident. He finally gets to tell Sam everything he's ever wanted to say. One-shot.


Never

Dean's drinking had finally started to alarm Sam in a way it never had before. It was never this bad before. In the past, Dean would occasionally go out, when the hunt was over. He'd drink a few beers, maybe meet a girl and come back some time in the light of morning. He was at the bar almost every night now, hunt or no hunt. He did manage to stay sober during the day, but as soon as they'd given up for the day, off he went. Sometimes, he came home, not just tipsy, but flat-out drunk and Sam wondered that he made it back at all.

Sam tried to bring it up, but it wasn't any good. Dean wouldn't listen, insisted he was fine and Sam knew if he pressed the issue, it was likely to have the exact opposite of the desired effect. He tried telling his older brother that he cared about him, that he didn't want to see him hurt. Dean had responded with an indiscriminate noise, something between a grunt and a mumble. 'No chick flick moments, remember?' Dean had said. Sam had tried one last tactic. 'Look, you want me to stay or not? Keep it up Dean and I'm gone.' Dean had lifted his eyes to meet Sam's at last and what Sam saw there was such an expression of deep emotional pain that it twisted his chest. 'You should go. You never wanted this. I did. So maybe it's not such a bad idea.' That was it. Then he was gone. Out the door. Off to the bar and Sam was alone again, to sit with his own thoughts about his future.

Dean tipped back his fifth shot of Jack Daniels and stared down at it, his mind elsewhere. He was thinking about his baby brother and the life he might have had, if it hadn't been for him. If it hadn't been for his own selfishness, his need to have someone else share the life he'd chosen. Yes, he'd chosen it. Maybe out of obligation to his father, who had no one else. But wasn't that the same as what he'd done to Sam? He'd abducted him from his perfect life, the life he was happy with, to take him away and force him into the obligation of hunting. He'd even invoked their father, to keep him there. And he wouldn't stay. Of course not. One day, Sam was going to realize what he'd done. And he'd be gone. Dean would finally be alone in the world and it was this eventuality that he'd always feared for. It was the main reason he'd sold his soul for Sam's life. Sure, part of it was wanting Sam to live, but a big part of it, maybe even the majority, was his fear of loneliness. It was strange he could lecture to Sam up and down, about how this kind of life was destined for solitude, how Sam was weak for not wanting it. And yet…nothing frightened Dean more. Not demons, vampires, vengeful spirits, none of that was half as frightening as being alone. Yes, he'd always told Sam nothing scared him. It was somewhat true. Just this one thing. With a sigh, Dean lifted his head and ordered another shot.

Sam woke with a start, not having remembered lying down and closing his eyes. Immediately, his heart began to pump madly, when he saw the time on his phone – 3:24am. A million terrible thoughts raced through his mind all at once. Dean had been arrested with a laundry list of charges and would never get out. Dean was in the ER in critical condition. Dean was dead. When he saw the number, realized it was Dean's number his heart slowed somewhat, but only some. He was still shivering with adrenaline.

"Dean? What-"He began to ask, almost stammering with fear.

"Sam…Sammy…I had an accident." Dean said so desperately that Sam's heart kick started anew.

"What?! Where are you? Are you okay?" Sam asked and was already stumbling out of bed, trying to get his shoes on.

"M'fine, Sammy, fine, but the cars not." Dean said, groaning as he once again surveyed the damage, as if staring at it would undo this.

"Fuck the car, Dean, where are you?" Sam said. He waited while Dean gave him the cross streets. "Okay – okay, I'll be right there. Just hang on." Sam said and hung up. He was wondering how he'd get there with no ride, but as it turned out, Dean was conveniently only blocks from the motel. Sam ran the whole way. His older brother was standing near the hood, his arms wrapped around himself, wide-eyed with shock. He was still blinking owlishly when Sam appeared from the darkness. Sam didn't wait for any words, he simply walked up to Dean and landed two hard punches, one in the shoulder and another in the chest, before he wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I told you! I fuckin' told you!" Sam yelled, enraged and relieved all at once, still shivering with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "You're a fuckin' idiot and I'm so glad you're okay! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I know – I know." Dean moaned. There were no words, no explanation he could possibly offer that would be reasonable. "I...I don't know what happened!"

"Does it still drive?" Sam demanded and hardly waited for a nod. "Good. Give me the keys. Get in the god damn car." There were no sirens yet, but Sam was anticipating them. Whatever Dean had hit, it had been slightly to the right. It was far more than a dent. The hood, the front end was smashed to hell.

They drove the few blocks to the Silver Hills motel in complete silence, Sam clenching his jaw the entire way. When they stopped in the parking lot, he didn't move. Dean was mumbling something about being sorry, trying to get out, get away from his brother's reasonable fury, but Sam's hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder roughly and shoving him back down.

"No. We're talking. We're having a talk. What the hell has gotten into you lately?" Sam asked, pulling the keys out of the ignition, all but throwing them into his lap. Dean swallowed as he sat back down. This was it. This was the moment when Sam told him he couldn't deal anymore and he was out.

"I don't…I don't know. You. I guess." Dean began, swallowing thickly and staring out at the darkness beyond his window.

"Wait – what do you mean, me? What have I got to do with this?" Sam wanted to know and he was clenching the wheel in both hands, trying desperately to not lose his shit. He took a deep, cleansing breath, trying to wash away the intense anger, to actually hear and register what Dean was saying. "You need to explain this better."

Dean nodded, still unable to even look at his baby brother, feeling empty and ashamed. He hated this more than anything. He hated putting all his cards out on the table and saying what he was really thinking. He hated to ask for any favors. He knew part of this was his upbringing. His father had drilled this lesson into him from a very early age. 'Don't ever be weak, Dean.' He'd said time and time again, mostly after a few beers. 'If you're weak, you give them something to hold onto. You give them something to hold over you. Be strong.' Because of their mother. Because of what had happened to her. His father had never let go of his guilt. Had never stopped feeling that if he'd been stronger, if he'd been lonely, their mother would never have died that way. Dean took a breath, feeling a sudden lump in his throat and he didn't know if he wanted to cry or puke or both.

"I-I don't want you to leave me Sammy. Please don't leave me alone." He finally said and it took all of his courage to say it.

"What?" Sam turned to face him, but Dean was still unable to meet the questioning gaze. "Why would you think that? I wouldn't. I wouldn't leave you."

"Oh yeah?" Dean mumbled, his tone full of the bitterness and pain he'd been holding back for so long. "You did it before. You left. Just walked out…you left us, Sam. You left me. Didn't call. Didn't write. Not even a fuckin' email. For two years. I had no idea what your life was like at school. Didn't know any of your friends. Never met Jess. I had to_ drag _you back, kicking and screaming."

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, not in annoyance, but because the words hurt. They still hurt because it was true.

"We've talked about this before, Dean. I didn't mean to leave you and dad. I just wanted to leave the life that you two wanted. I wanted something else. I just wanted to be…safe. I wanted everything to be predictable and safe. And look – you had dad. You weren't alone. Dad was there. I never would have left if he wasn't."

"Yeah and how am I supposed to know that?" Dean asked, anger and pain finally forcing him to meet his brother's eyes head on. Tears had begun to well up and he finally let them flow, because he couldn't have stopped it anyway. "If it was that hard to convince you to help me find your own dad…" He swallowed convulsively, trying to prevent the tears from turning into gut-wrenching sobs. "Then - then how much of a difference could I really make?"

Sam was swallowing now too, because Dean didn't cry. Ever. Okay, sometimes. Rarely. It took a lot. To know that he had affected this solid, courageous man, this man that given his soul to hell for him…well, yeah. That was rough.

"You just have to trust me, D! You just have to forgive me for this. Please – please forgive me! I told you before and I'm telling you now. I wouldn't have done that. I thought – I thought that's what you wanted! You, dad, the hunts. I thought you were happy! I just wanted to be happy too! I would never….I won't ever leave you alone. You're my brother, you saved my life." He was crying now too, he could feel the warmth spilling out onto his cheeks and didn't care. He reached for his older brother. "I'm promising you. This is a promise. I won't ever do that again." Dean finally gave in, even though it was a total chick flick moment. He let Sam wrap his arms around him, he let the pain out. Finally. He had tried, for so long, to not hold this against Sam, but it was hard. It had been really hard. To open his heart up again and let Sam in.

Sam held Dean close for a minute or two, before suddenly pulling away, laughing a little bit in a way that was totally forced.

"Sorry bro, is this too much?" He muttered.

"Uh. Yeah." Dean said and swiped at his face with his sleeve. "Duh." But he felt something for the first time in a long while. Something like relief. Like everything was finally going to be okay. Sam had pulled away but his hands were still resting on Dean's shoulders.

"I mean it, D. I promise you. I won't walk out on you. If anything…If the day ever comes where we need to stop. I'll make sure…just like last time. I'll make sure that you're not alone. I'll make sure that you're happy before I just….ride off into the sunset, okay?" Sam said, wanting nothing more to give his amazing, heroic, self-sacrificing brother some sense of peace.

"Okay. Okay. I get it. You won't do that. Good. Awesome." Dean mumbled, trying to act non-chalant. As always, but there was nothing non-chalant about it and he knew it. It was like he'd finally gotten something, something he'd been working toward for a long time. Suddenly, he knew what it was. It was trust. After all of this, everything, he'd finally given his trust to his brother. No small task, where Dean was concerned. Trust was a commodity as valuable as gold.

"Okay. Cool. Don't ever do this to me again? Okay?" Sam coxed, needing more affirmation. Dean nodded, finally reaching for the door handle of the Impala, because the intense moment was starting to make him uncomfortable.

"I promise, Sammy. Never again." He said.

After that, everything went back to normal, but better. The two brothers worked together like a well-oiled machine. Everything was perfect or as close to perfect as it would ever be for the Winchesters.


End file.
